


Fatal Attraction

by poutypanic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Blood, Mild Language, Mild Plot at Least, Porn With Plot, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal, Vaginal Fingering, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-20 19:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poutypanic/pseuds/poutypanic
Summary: You're an assassin hired to try and kill Hanzo. Things get a little violent and bloody. Then things take a bit of a turn :3





	Fatal Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> ***Revised - They fuck in a different room ^_^***
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> As usual a big thank you to [Demial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Demial) for beta reading!
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> This was inspired by a request sent in to DrabbleWatch on Tumblr! 
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> "Ooh boy I've got a good one! *rubs hands* So I rewatched the Dragon animated short and Hanzo mentions that there were more assassins sent to kill him. So can I get an NSFW fic of fem!reader who is an assassin sent to try to kill Hanzo, but who ends up getting seduced by him instead? :3c"

The contract is set. You’ve got your incentive, and you're ready to get this done. As far as weather goes for assassinating, it couldn’t get much better than this. Partially cloudy with a slight chill in the air. A big, glowing moon in waxing gibbous. You could sit out in this all night. Good; because it seems that is exactly what you're going to have to do.

You’re perched high up on one of the Shimada castle walls. Watching as all of the lower level hired lackeys patrol the area. The night is getting older by the minute. Did your employers have their information right? They assured you that every single year the former heir shows up to pay respects to his dead brother. Of whom he… blah blah blah, whatever.  You couldn't care less about all the intricate sad details. The only motivation you need to do your job is currency. 

You also need the intel to be correct, and the later that it gets, the more it would seem that it was not. No one has shown up. The castle has been quiet for the several hours that you’ve been here waiting. Perhaps the target is aware of your presence and has made the decision not to come on this night? Maybe you’re too much of a threat, and he doesn't want to take the chance dealing with you. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Suddenly, there’s a loud grunt, and a heavy body hits the floor. That throws that idea right out. Several other noises of pain follow soon after. It would seem you were flattering yourself too soon.  You wait it out. Letting the target take out as many of the lackeys as possible. The more people who are out of the way the better. Because that means fewer distractions. Fewer people thinking they can ‘help’ you get your job done. Only to end up making the mission a failure.

When the inside of the castle seems to go back to its neutral state, you head on in. Slip through a window onto one of the rafters. Quiet and unseen. There he is, your target; Hanzo Shimada. Sitting back on his legs, with his head bowed in a prayer in front of an altar. The powerful muscles in his back completely relaxed, with his hands placed in his lap. His bow is at his side, not far out of reach. With a long cascading golden scarf tied in his hair. That is tactically unwise to you. In fact, almost everything about his get up seems tactically unwise. For a man who knows he isn’t welcome here, this all seems reckless.

You scold yourself for the lingering observations,  _‘Get your head in the mission.’_ If there is one thing about your personality that doesn't suit your job,  it is the constant wondering of your thoughts. It’s far too easy for you to end up distracted. That’s why the fewer the details, the better. Means fewer things for you to think about. After refocusing, you find a pathway in the ceiling that will allow you the advantage to drop down on top of him. You’ll have one of your daggers ready. Give him a swift jab to his jugular and be done with this.

You get into position. Take in a few deep inhales of breath. Start to count to three: One… two….

“If you truly think I don’t know you are there.” Hanzo calmly takes a hold of his bow. Stands up and looks up at your position, “Then you are just as foolish as all the others.” 

_Shit._ You’re taken aback by his sudden acknowledgment of your presence. This gives Hanzo enough time nock an arrow and shoot it up into the beam you’re laid out on. It cracks the wood, makes it splinter. Practically splits it in half. The sound is alarming, sending a lightning strike of anxiety through your chest. The arrow head glistens, stuck, the lights still glowing and inches from your face.

You quickly get your shit together, sheath the knife, push off the beam, and pull out a pistol. You barely manage to roll as your feet hit the ground and dodge another arrow. You fire off several shots. All intended to kill; no warnings here. He’s just as quick, if not quicker than you are. Only one manages to graze his sleeved shoulder. It tears open the fabric and blood instantly turns a portion of the blue into a deep red. 

More gun shots and more flying arrows. Then a terrifying scatter of arrows, something you were completely unprepared for. Raining down all around you at terminal velocity. How you managed to survive that was nothing short of a miracle. You’ve got pure blind panic, years of honed muscle memory, and a whole lot of luck to thank for your life.

Who’s going to run out of ammunition first? You’re both too quick, too nimble to get hit by anything. It’s time to get up close and personal. This isn’t really your style, but this could go on forever. You’d rather change up the game while you still have the energy, and when he won’t be expecting it. To distract him you hurl your gun at him. He swats it away using his bow but during that small amount of time, you’re able to close the gap significantly. Bring out your dagger and start swinging.

A smirk plays across Hanzo’s lips as he blocks and parries every swing and jab. You’re starting to get frustrated because that smirk is… distracting. What the hell is that thing for? Doesn't he know you’re trying to kill him? You have one bad misstep and that allows Hanzo to ensnare you between his bow string and the handle. When he yanks on it, the string digs into your lower back. Both of your feet come off the ground, and you collide with his body.

Your face is momentarily smashed between his clavicles. Your nose burns and throbs. Your torso and arms flush with his chest.  _Holy shit_. He’s a solid wall of rich muscle. You’re so close that you can feel his racing heartbeat on your cheek. His skin radiates heat and his scent is—

“It seems you made a dire mistake, assassin.”

You snap back to attention, “Na, you did.”

You promptly hop up to head butt him. Your forehead impacting with his nose.  He grunts but doesn't let go of the bow. So when he falters back, you go with him. Your grip on your weapon never let up, dagger still in a white-knuckled grip in your hand. You swing it up from under the bow, trying to get the weapon into his exposed rib cage. The tip of the blade is barely able to nip at his skin before his hand clamps down around your wrist. 

“Not every assassin has the audacity to show their face; you must think you are skilled.” 

Hanzo drives his knee up into the underside of your wrist, forcing the knife to drop out of your grasp. He swiftly lifts the bow over your head, freeing you from its confinement. Then wields it like a katana and swings it down into your gut so hard it causes you to fly back several feet. Your back hits hard against the wooden floors, the breath knocked from your lungs. You don’t have time to lament about the pain in your chest or your lack of air. Move now or get an arrow stuck in your skull. 

Another successful dodge but this one was not without injury. The arrow skims your temple, leaving a cut from eyebrow to hair line. It looks a lot worse than it is. The cut bleeding so much that it rolls down your cheek and onto your neck. If you manage to live it will require a stitch or two and leave a scar. It seems Hanzo is thinking the same thing.

He chuckles as he wipes the blood away from under his nose,

“Something to remember me by.”

“The memory of your death? Heh, I suppose that’s something worth remembering.” 

You’ve got plenty of weapons on your person. No shortage of knives, tucked away into every available space you can comfortably fasten them. Hanzo has used up the last of his arrows. Thank God… well maybe. He comes for you before you can come for him. Swings the bow at you over and over. So fast you can barely comprehend it. It’s just a blur of intangible gray and sharp whistles of the air it’s cutting through.

You time your catch carefully. Snatch the limb of the bow in your hands. The sting from the impact is terribly painful, but it’s worth being able to stop it for long enough to leap onto him. You lock your legs around his torso and channel all of the pain that is in your arms into punching him right in his pretty, smug face.  Hanzo has to drop his bow in order to have one free arm to block your blows, and another to try and pry you off of his person.

There's a shift in the vibe. A magnetism settling in on the aura that surrounds your assault. The more you put hands on one another the less it feels like you’re trying to kill each other, and starts to feel as if you're fighting for the thrill of it. For the sport and the vigor. He hasn’t stopped smirking since you threw yourself onto him. Even with every touch being harsh and meant to hurt it all still feels… exhilarating. You were already feeling the heat in your chest and your lungs for the strenuous reasons. Now the warmth is starting to settle into places fighting doesn't usually produce heat for. 

With that damn look. The strong grip on your thigh. That intricate tattooed arm that absorbing your blows…

Hanzo snatches up your arm and grabs the underside of your knee. Tosses you into the wall like you're a damn rag doll. Focus! Then he gets a hold of you again, whips you around and wraps an arm around your neck. He places a hand on top of your head. This is it for you. It’ll only take a single moment for him to snap your neck. You’ve lost. 

Hanzo’s face is pressed tightly against your own. His beard tickles at your ear, and you can feel his fevered breath against your cheek bone.

“Another year, another failed attempt." You struggle, and he pulls his arm tighter against your neck, "But you are a formidable opponent… perhaps we could talk this out.” 

You’re so taken aback by that statement that all you can manage is a curt gut reaction. A high pitched, “What?!” And then a more strangled, “No!”

If he’s going to hesitate then you're not going to let the opportunity go to waste. You sweep your leg back across his ankle. He loses his balance and falls back, bringing you down to the floor with him. You both crash with loud grunts and curses. Hanzo’s chest expands and decompresses with every chuckle, causing your own torso to shake while on top of him.

“There’s no need to be a sore loser.”  ****

You spin around and straddle his waist. Wrap that golden scarf around your hand several times, and yank his head back. Pull your knife back with the full intentions of driving it up into his jaw. You bring it down and up in a swooping motion. At the last moment, you bring all of your momentum to an abrupt halt just as the knife is poking into his skin just above his Adams apple. 

_ Do it! Finish it! Complete the job! _

You can’t, and won't, because he’s gotten to you. He could have killed you and chose not to, and that is bothersome. You’ve now hesitated for long enough that he could easily gain the upper hand again and yet he’s not. He’s staring you down with clenched teeth and powerful brown eyes waiting for you to make a decision. Being this close and this still with him is overwhelming on the senses. God, he’s handsome. Down right beautiful. With a face that looks like it was sculpted from marble. No amount of bruises, cuts, or blood could make this man look any less… perfect. 

Why did they want him dead again? Oh, yeah that’s right; you weren't listening. So you don’t really know. Something about dishonor, abandonment…  Hanzo shifts underneath you and it breaks your train of thought. It was a subtle adjustment but with his big body, it still lifts both your knees off the ground. You press the dagger harder into his throat,

“Stop moving.”

You’ve skipped out on contracts before. But have never considered dumping one for such a negligible reason. Hanzo doesn’t listen; why would he? He very, very slowly lifts his arm up off of the floor. Wedges it between your bodies, and places an open palm against your neck. His touch causes your body to tense up, and your hand to press the knife just a little harder. Now on the brink of breaking through his skin. 

“What are you doing?”

“You made it clear you don’t want to talk.”

His hand glides up over your chin. Grazes along your lips, briefly dipping into your mouth. Even though your grip on the dagger becomes even tighter, it does inch away from his throat. Your mouth drops open wantonly. This is a very, very bad idea. Against your much better judgment you groan, “Oh, fuck it,” and toss the blade away.

Hanzo moves so fast that at first, you think you’ve made a fatal mistake. As fast as the fear arrives, it leaves when he mashes his lips against yours with an open mouth that tastes faintly of copper. You open your own and welcome him in. Having completely given into the new direction this night has taken. He growls and pulls himself away,

“If you don’t mind… I’d prefer to take this somewhere else.”

*

 

Somewhere deep within the castle, far away from the room you quarreled in, Hanzo has pulled you into a Dojo. Somehow you’ve ended up back on top of him after a few aggressive wrestles for dominance. Your thighs squeeze tightly against his hips. The soft matting of the floor an immense relief on your tired knees. 

Your own hips gyrate back and forth in swift circles as Hanzo drags his hand down your chest. Hums softly as he palms the space between your breasts. Continues down ’til he gets to your pants. Where you let him unhook the button and undo the zipper. He arches his back straining to get his hand into your underwear. 

“I can manage, but this would be much easier if you’d slow a little.” 

“Figure it out, Shimada.” 

“Hmpf.” Hanzo grabs a hold of your thigh and tugs you forward so that you're straddling his chest. Shoves his hand the rest of the way into your underwear. Finds your clit quickly, starts circling it with one finger. It seems he is skilled in many things. His touch near instantly makes you squirm. The rough pad of his finger tip coaxes a rush of blood that engorges and sensitizes you.  

You take two fists full's of his clothes as you start to come the motions of your hips making it feel all the more intense. While you’re still wriggling around in pleasure Hanzo reaches up and wraps a hand around the back out your neck. Pulls you down with force and resumes kisses you the same way he had the first time.

Neither of you are gentle. Not feeling at all shy about tugging on hair or biting lips. No sympathy is given for any grunts or whines of pain. Only harsher nips and even nastier yanks. You remove his sleeve off of his shoulder and rake your nails across his abs. Hook your fingers onto the muscles that line his spine. Hanzo pushes a couple of fingers inside of you, strokes fervently against your velvet hot walls. Moves down into your neck so he can bite at small sections of skin. 

For every bite he gives you, you give him two back. You reach down with one hand and work his cock free from his pants. It’s already leaking and wet with pre-come. How long has he been hard for? At what point did he decide he wasn’t going to kill you? For you, the decision was made merely minutes ago. While almost every other action is fevered, you keep your strokes at a slow teasing pace. Stopping at the head of his cock to squeeze and pulsate your grip. You drag your thumb along the slit, and his body shudders. So you do that again and again.

The groans he makes every time you do that are so subtle that you nearly miss them. That won’t do. You up the pressure and the pace. Fighting to keep yourself coordinated as you start to come undone again. Finally, your mind starts to fog up so much it shuts off and can't think about anything else anymore. The only things on your mind being the tough fingers squelching in and out of your aching cunt. And the hot wet tongue gliding from your shoulder to ear.  

Hanzo abruptly takes your ear lobe between his teeth and clamps down. The pain sends violent shivers straight into your clit. Causing your walls squeeze down around his fingers.

He chuckles in your ear, “Such a masochist.”

You gyrate your hips on his fingers, “Oh, shut up.” 

“My apologies.” He says as he switches your positions. Flips you over onto the floor and tugs your pants down to mid thigh. Then rolls you over onto your stomach, gets on his knees, and brings your ass back to meet his hips. His cock slides between your cheeks, and he huffs from the satisfaction. Hanzo brushes against your entrance multiple times, and each time you brace yourself for the entry.

Your groan, “Come on; get on with it, Shimada.” 

His hand comes down on your ass in five quick successions. You yelp for each one. Bright red welts flower, sending tingles across your hips and up into your back. You try to refrain from letting your torso shake to no avail. Fuck that felt good.

“You deserve much more for trying to kill me,” he sighs as he lines himself up and leans into you, “But I am afraid we are pressed for time.” 

Hanzo leans forward, weaves his hands into your hair, curls in his fingers, and yanks back. Rams his cock into you in short and quick strokes. Your back starts to ache from the arch. Your eyes water from the strain on your neck and hair. You don’t bother asking him to let up, no matter how much your body is starting to burn. As if he’d spare you any comforts. Besides, do you really want him to? No, in fact, you think he could stand to pull a little harder.

It’s as if the man can read your mind. His grip tightens, and his thrusts become even faster and harder. Salacious slaps echo through out the room. A continuous stream of the sound “ah” unabashedly flows from your gaping mouth. Your fingers curl into your palm, and you back arches even more as you come one more time. Hanzo is almost infuriating quiet. Without his mouth being right on top of your ear, it’s hard to hear his grunts and moans. Especially over how loud your own are.

That is until he comes. Then you are gifted with a beautiful succession of breathy whines and deeps seated groans. He comes deep inside of you. Lets go of your hair so he can grip both of your hips and hold you there ’til he’s done twitching and spurting every last drop. You slump down onto the floor. Revel in how soothing the cool mat floor feels against your cheek with a deep and long sigh.  

You can feel the exhaustion settle into your muscles. The adrenaline not quite leaving from your system just yet, but dissipating enough for you to feel your torn shoulder. As you roll back over you plant your foot onto his stomach and push him back onto the floor.  

"You messed up my shoulder, asshole." 

"Yes, well you broke my nose and ruined my favorite kyudo-gi."

Fair enough. You both snap to attention as angry voices echo through the halls. Coming from the entrance of the castle. Barely understandable from within the Dojo. It doesn't matter what obscenities they are yelling, it’s time to leave. You hop back up on to your feet, swiftly getting yourself redressed. 

“I guess I’ll have to kill you some other time.”

Hanzo heads for a back door out of the room. Before he disappears he looks back at you and smirks, “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> ~~plz excuse the cheesiest title in the world, thank~~
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> My [ Tumblr ](https://poutypanic.tumblr.com/) ( ˘ ³˘)❤


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